


Knock Three Times

by SylvanWitch



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22788736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanWitch/pseuds/SylvanWitch
Summary: When he barges into Danny's apartment to find his partner in a compromising position with his ex-wife, Steve wishes he'd learned to knock.  Later, he's glad he didn't.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams, past Rachel Edwards/Danny "Danno" Williams - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 236





	Knock Three Times

**Author's Note:**

> This fulfills the "misunderstandings" square on my personal prompts bingo card.

Steve had gotten out of the habit of knocking, something Danny complained about every time his partner let himself into his apartment without a warning.

“How’d you like it if I just barged into your place?” Danny had asked, a miscalculation, given the number of occasions on which he’d done just that, a point Steve made with a single, speaking look.

Danny’s Camaro was in its usual space, so Steve knew he was home when he went to pick him up for work, and he used his key to let himself in, calling out, “Hey, Danno, get your ass in gear,” as he did so.

There was a muffled squeak, a thump, and then silence of the variety that said someone was trying to be very, very quiet.

It was the loudest kind of silence, and Steve’s hand went automatically for his gun, which he drew as he stalked toward the source of the suspicious noises, motion so fluid he was staring down the sight line before he even thought about what he was doing.

The door to Danny’s bedroom was open a crack, and the blinds must have been open because there was natural light on the narrow sliver of floor Steve could see.

Steve flattened himself to the wall on the hinge side of the door and reached his free hand out to nudge it open before dropping into a crouch and coming through low, gun sweeping the room, stuttering and catching on an unexpected sight before Danny’s “Jesus, Steve!” and Rachel’s “Oh, my God!” pierced his momentary brain-freeze, and he aimed it elsewhere.

They were side by side on the bed, which was mussed up like they’d been—

Steve didn’t let himself finish the thought.

Rachel’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes flashing with what might be fury or could be embarrassment.

Danny’s eyes were easier to read: Fear and furtiveness, an uncomfortable and uncharacteristic combination.

Steve drew himself up and holstered his weapon, pretending his hands were shaking from the adrenaline let-down and not because he’d just caught his boyfriend making out with his ex-wife.

“How many times have I told you to knock?” Danny asked, getting up from the bed and making a show of straightening his shirt.

Steve knew this move: Defensiveness was one of Danny’s superpowers, especially when he was wrong-footed.

“I’ll wait in the truck,” Steve said, nodding stiffly to Rachel and fleeing the scene as quickly as he could without looking like he was running away.

In the truck, he wrapped his hands around the steering wheel and stared at the curve between them, taking long, centering breaths and trying not to think or feel.

There might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for what he’d interrupted. 

Maybe they’d been having an argument while Danny was getting ready for work, and Rachel had pulled him down on the bed to get him to sit still and listen.

Maybe she didn’t like the way he made the bed, and she was fixing it.

Maybe Danny had been teaching her the latest CPR technique.

Maybe Steve was an idiot to have thought that he could ever be enough for Danny.

Danny emerged a few moments later, pausing in the doorway and looking back into the apartment, obviously saying something to Rachel, something like, “I’ll see you later,” or “I love you.”

Steve blew out a breath and schooled his face into a neutral expression.

Danny opened the door but didn’t climb in. He looked up at Steve from across the cab and said, “It’s not what it looks like.”

Steve made a show of shrugging. “It’s none of my business what it was. Get in,” and started the truck.

But Danny, predictably, didn’t do as he was told. He stayed in the open door, saying nothing, obviously waiting for Steve to say something more.

When Steve didn’t oblige, jaw clenched against the words that wanted to come out of him—accusations, recriminations, ridiculous denial—Danny raised his hands in surrender and climbed in, buckling his seat belt even as Steve put the truck in gear and pulled away from Danny’s building.

The ride to the Palace was tense, and Steve heard Danny take in a breath as if to speak at least three times before he pulled the truck into his space and shut it off, making a point to be out of the truck before Danny, so he wouldn’t have to talk to him.

They didn’t have a case, and the others weren’t in yet, so the office was quiet. Steve made a beeline for his office, making a point of letting the door close behind him, not that that stopped Danny from coming right through it.

“We have to talk about this, Steven,” Danny said, hands on his hips, eyes riveted to Steve’s face.

Steve didn’t think there was anything to say.

“Look, Danny, what you and Rachel do is your business—your _personal_ business. This is work. Let’s try to keep the two separate from now on, okay?”

He forced himself to look away from Danny, to log into his computer and scan his email subject lines, hoping for something that might take him out of the office for the day—meeting with the Governor, surprise court appearance, unexpected dental surgery. He wasn’t picky, he just wanted to get the hell out.

Danny made a frustrated sound. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? Last week, you had your tongue—and other parts—down my throat, and now you’re saying we shouldn’t mix business with pleasure? Really, Steve?”

Steve didn’t like the reminder of what it had felt like to have Danny on his knees in front of him, that smart mouth of his for once quiet, except for the occasional curse word or endearment.

Swallowing around the loss that welled up in his throat, Steve shook his head. “What do you expect me to say here, Danny? I walked in on you and Rachel not a half-hour ago. You’ve obviously got some things to work out that don’t involve me—”

“Stop saying that! Of course, this involves you—I love you, you idiot!”

Steve’s breath froze, and he caught himself staring wide-eyed at Danny, whose jaw was set in that stubborn jut, refusing to take the declaration back even as his face flushed under Steve’s scrutiny.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Steve managed at last, voice a low rasp. He felt the protective numbness fading, replaced by a watery hope that made his stomach flip uneasily. 

“I tried to tell you—it’s not what you think. Yes, Rachel came over this morning to try to talk me into giving it one more try. And yes, she kissed me. But I didn’t kiss back, Steve. I’m not interested in Rachel that way anymore, which is what I was telling her when you let yourself in—without knocking, I might add.” His outrage was weak, though, and the flutter in Steve’s belly grew into tremors.

Steve scanned Danny’s face, searching for signs that he might be fudging the truth or telling Steve what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t that Steve didn’t trust Danny—he did, every day, with his life. But his heart was another matter, and Steve had to be sure.

“Did you tell her about me? About us?”

Danny nodded and began to move slowly around Steve’s desk. “I did.”

Steve turned in his chair to face Danny, who stepped between Steve’s knees and leaned down to brace himself on the arms of the chair.

“And?” Steve asked, looking up into Danny’s face, trying to keep the hope out of his expression and, he was sure, failing. 

“I told her I love you—that I’m _in love_ with you—and that I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”

Danny’s mouth was curled into a warm smile, fondness there and a certain heat in his eyes that made Steve wish they were somewhere more private.

Steve reached up to touch the corner of Danny’s mouth, and Danny pressed into the touch, leaning down to meet Steve’s lips, sliding his tongue along them to get Steve to open his mouth, deepening the kiss until Steve felt himself growing hard.

He should stop this, he thought vaguely, and then Danny folded to his knees, hands warm on Steve’s thighs, and Steve didn’t care who saw them like this as long as Danny didn’t stop touching him.

When Danny at last pulled away, his eyes were hot and hungry, lips red and wet, and Steve wanted to stretch him out on the floor behind the desk and show him just how much he loved him.

Which reminded Steve that he hadn’t said it yet, an oversight he corrected at once, leaning forward to breathe in Danny’s ear, making him shiver in a gratifying way, as he said, “I love you, Danno, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much.”

Danny swallowed, licked his lips, and said, “How about you start right now?” and indicated the shades with a jerk of his head.

Steve felt desire tighten in his core as he considered Danny’s suggestion. 

“How about we take the day off and head to my place?” Steve countered, swallowing a sharp pang of regret at having to abandon the office sex fantasy currently purling through his brain.

He’d love to have Danny on the floor of the office, but for one thing, neither of them was a kid anymore, and for another, he didn’t think Lou would appreciate the show. (Tani, on the other hand, would probably provide color commentary.)

Steve reluctantly pushed his chair back to give himself room to stand and then offered Danny a hand up.

Danny took it and used it to crowd Steve against the desk and lean up to kiss him again, a hard, hot kiss that indicated just what Danny had in mind when they got to Steve’s.

Steve said, “Danny,” voice tight with need, and put his hands on Danny’s biceps to push him back a step, put some space between them.

Danny turned with an unnecessary swagger to his step and left the office, trusting that Steve would be right behind him.

Much later, sweaty, sticky with spend, and still trying to catch his breath, Steve cupped his hand around Danny’s perfect ass and pressed him close.

“Hey,” Danny murmured, boneless and half asleep on top of Steve. 

“Yeah?” Steve asked, running his hand up Danny’s back and pressing a kiss to his sweaty temple.

“Thanks for not knocking,” Danny said.

Steve huffed a laugh in answer, blissed out and half gone, a goofy smile on his face. “Any time,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of Danny’s head and then letting himself drift off.


End file.
